


A Real Kiss

by SluttyHaruka



Series: Straight Up Yuri [1]
Category: Fire Emblem Series
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/F, Femdom, Fingerfucking, Groping, Mistletoe, Undressing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-02
Updated: 2016-01-02
Packaged: 2018-05-11 02:42:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5610871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SluttyHaruka/pseuds/SluttyHaruka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On Xmas Eve, Robin is alone at a party, waiting for someone special.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Real Kiss

Robin sighed, her fingers shaking. The mug in her hands was not at all cold. It contained steaming hot cocoa with dissolving heart shaped marshmallows drifting along its surface, diluting the milk chocolate to an even lighter color. However, despite the ring at the base of the ceramic cup warming her festive nylons, she shivered. Something other than the temperature was making her jittery. Her eyes scanned the room over...and over, longing and disappointment compounding. She knew that if she had brought her watch or her phone, she would have sat there checking them every few seconds, hence why she left both at the flat.

She wanted to be able to trust that the night would go well, that her hopes wouldn't get dashed. She wanted to trust someone not necessarily worthy of it, but whom she knew was making a very real effort. Intuition told her that just giving up and moving on would be a serious mistake. She did not want to throw in the towel, but it was terrifying sticking her neck out this far. It was as if she was situated at the precipice of an iceberg, in equal danger of falling off or tumbling backward. 

The more time passed as she waited on that couch, hoping for a sound, sight or scent that indicated the arrival of her desired company, the harder it became to justify listening her gut. It was cruel to do this to her. She didn't even want to be at this stupid, douchey party anyway. Bitterness gnawed at her flighty stomach. Maybe she should just end it and make sure to give the jerk a piece of her mind while doing so. She certainly would not going to hold back, not after everything- 

She heard that unmistakable laugh over the dull roar of the house, her heart leaping inside her. A smile spread across her lips and her eyes glistened as she turned towards the source, only to realize that Noire had climbed on top of a table in her ‘drunken’ state, ‘singing’ along to the thumping music. Robin's gaze drifted back down to her hot cocoa, a heaviness in her chest. The surface of her drink rippled with a tiny drop, then another. Her hands shook even more as she sniffled, feeling ever more defeated.

So when a bough of mistletoe descended before her face, she was momentarily confused and disheartened, thinking one of the guys at the party had come over to hit on her. Looking up, she found herself out of breath, her pulse quickening. Under silky black bangs were those mischievous purple eyes she knew so well, carefully studying her. The smugness that Robin had come to expect from said jerk was there, but there was also a softness, concern.

“Hey, little lady,” the brunette said, her voice smooth, smoky. She reached out to stroke Robin’s cheek. “Everything ok? I hope you haven't been waiting here long.”

“N-no…” The whited haired woman blushed, her face and generous cleavage turning pink. She tried to say more, but only sighed contentedly as she felt her body warm. A more pleasant shiver rippled across her flesh.

Her companion eyed her suspiciously, crossing her arms over her chest. “Not that you would tell me if you were upset.”

Robin balked at her. “I _would!_ I just got here. I'm… fashionably late like you are.”

“Uh huh. You terrible liar. I can see you were crying. But don't you worry, hun.” The brunette sat down beside her, throwing an arm around her, the mistletoe hanging over Robin's heaving chest. The woman stroked her cheek again as she pulled her close. “I can make you forget all about it.”

“ _Tharja_!” Robin giggled, blushing brighter. “There are so many people around us, it's embarrassing.”

“But why should that matter?” The hand holding the bough slipped under the hemline of Robin’s sweater dress, slowly pulling it down. “Unless you want to do something we shouldn't do before an audience?”

The white haired woman squirmed in her grasp, attempting to pull her top back up to avoid flashing the unsuspecting party goers. Tharja distracted her with a single finger on her chin, directing her face to turn to meet hers. Their mouths bonded, the transgressing hand moving to hold the mistletoe over their heads. Robin allowed herself to be embraced even closer, the creamy lips of her tormentor sending warmth to the nicest of places. She leaned in to kiss deeper, but Tharja broke off.

The brunette stared into her eyes as she played with her hair. “Is this what you want or do you really want something a little more _personal_?” 

Robin's answer wasn't verbal, but Tharja knew her well enough that she didn't need it to be spoken. Taking her by the hand, she led her ensnared prey to a bathroom across the hall that was, luckily, unoccupied. Robin knew she probably shouldn't be so eager to submit, but her heart was racing, pumping blood to all the right places. Her lover pushed her against the sink, slipping her hands into her sweater and cupping her breasts. She purred, her legs spreading to take Tharja between them. 

The brunette’s leather leggings squeaked as she squeezed her thighs together and ground her crotch against Robin’s. She licked her teeth, smelling her girlfriend’s honeyed sex and feeling the bared shape of it against the skin tight material encasing her own. Giving the hemline of the sweater dress a hard tug, she exposed Robin’s pillowy bosom, watching it bounce on her chest as she played with it. Pushing, tapping, pinching, grabbing them, she marveled at how the glorious boobs moved. Taking each one into her mouth and suckling with a throaty moan, she continued grinding against her lover’s slick folds. She ravenously feasted upon the teats, leaving no inch untouched by her tongue.

“Yup, there is no doubt about.” Tharja said, triumphant as she rose for air. “Noire inherited hers from you.”

Robin grunted in disgust, her lustful buzz dimming a bit. “Please don't talk about your daughter when we are like this.”

Tharja furrowed her brow. “She is yours, too.

“And how exactly would that work?”

“There are ways for her to be both of ours, only ours.” She slipped a finger into Robin, leaning closer, their faces inches apart. “I know I am a _bad girl_ and do _bad things_ , but I want to do them for you and maybe you will want me to.” 

Another finger entered the half naked woman as they kissed again, deep and slow. They became lost in each other, their bodies rocking together as their tongues danced, neither one overtaking the other. Robin’s hand drifted to the brunette’s bottom, taut and and round, giving it a firm squeeze. Tharja moaned again, breaking her kiss to bite her lip. 

“Mmm, _please_ let me do my _bad things_ for you to make you feel good...and consider being my wife.”

Out of the breast pocket of her jacket, she procured a jeweled ring, presenting it to her stunned lover. An excruciatingly long moment passed as the brunette waited for the shocked woman's expression to change. Her heart leapt when it did. 

“Yes,” Robin exclaimed. “To the bad things. I need time to think about _that_.”

A sly, albeit slightly defeated smile spread across Tharja’s lips. “Yes, ma'am. I promise you that my _bad things_ are a perfect match for you and I am sure that you will decide that-”

Robin grabbed her by her hair and guided her head between her legs. “Yeah, yeah, just give me head already, Chatty Cathy. I am not just going to choose to marry you while I am horny, so get to making me cum, slut.”

There was a grunt in response, but did as instructed. Truth be told, she herself blushed at her girlfriend’s sudden and clear act of dominance. In particular, being called a slut made her own sex moisten with her arousal, trapped in her now uncomfortable leggings. As her tongue lapped at the engorged lips pressed to her mouth, possibilities for bad things to be perpetrated on her filled her mind, making her dizzy. 

She had always been the initiator, the dominant one, and this one impulsive, brazen act sent her mind reeling. Sucking on Robin’s clit and passively allowing the woman to hump her face as she edged closer to climax, she ached and also thirsted for more. Swirling her tongue over her sensitive flesh, she responded eagerly to her lover’s unspoken cues, working her into a convulsive orgasm and not letting up until her body relaxed again. Robin’s completion came paired with a geyser like ejaculation, hosing down the door behind Tharja just as much as the brunette.

Releasing her grip on her head, the white haired woman coaxed her into standing back up to feel her cumslick lips against her own. They both mewled, Robin absentmindedly stroking Tharja’s matted hair. Tasting each other, their hearts pounded away, nearly synchronized. There was also a pounding at the door, but they were lost in their own world, forgetting even that there was a party around them. 

The brunette sighed, because it was Robin who broke this time. “Now _that_ is a real kiss,” she managed to say, though her head was still hazy.

“No kidding, love.” Robin looked deep in her eyes and it was clear what she was about to say. 

Tharja pressed a finger to her lips, silencing her. “If I may say so, before you say what are you are going to say, _maybe_ you aren't satisfied. _Maybe_ you can, should order me around again. _Maybe_ you can call me a slut again. You don't want to rush into making your decision, _right_?”

It was Robin who carefully eyed her violet eyed lover this time, considering before responding. It did not take long before a wicked grin spread across her face, though. “No, I don't, slut. Now show me that pretty pink pussy. Hurry, take those leggings off. Now, before I find another cute slut to replace you. I am sure Noire with her pretty black hair and expansive chest would be a good candidate.”

Tharja whimpered, blood rushing to her loins as the possibility of her intended wife and future daughter having sex entered her mind and remained there. Whether it was an idle threat or not, it both disturbed and aroused her, the idea that Noire could easily be substituted in for her and her lover would not see any difference. She groaned as she quickly, but not too quickly, slipped her leggings off, eager to do as instructed, but even more so to risk to ‘punishment’.


End file.
